


Roommates

by manamune



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art Student Keith, Flirting By Texting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Photography Student Lance, Wingman Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manamune/pseuds/manamune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!</p><p>(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommates

Lance met Keith for the first time at a coffee shop.

Keith slid his mug closer to him, fingers anxiously moving over the handle. The heat from the hot chocolate was making his cheeks pink, a stark contrast from the suspicious he had; his eyebrows were furrowed together and his lips pursed in contemplation, staring at Lance from the other side of the wooden table as if he had grown two heads.

“Only six-hundred a month?” he asked, tone clipped, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Lance grinned, resting his elbows on the table. “Yup,” he said proudly. “I bought it when the market was better. If you can do your share of chores, I’ll rent it to you for the same price it would’ve gone for then.”

Keith was his age, according to the post he’d make on the site Lance had found him on, but he looked older. The lines on his forehead betrayed his levels of stress, and the dark circles under his eyes made Lance want to tuck him into a bed and bring him soup. His ad had said that he’d been looking for a place to live for the past few months and that he was being evicted within the next two weeks.

Lance, being the kind-hearted, wonderful person that he was, generously messaged him about becoming roommates. He hadn’t considered getting one since Hunk had moved out, but he could use the extra money, and having company could be nice.

When he and Hunk had lived together, they’d gone out every Saturday for lunch, no matter how busy they were the other days of the week. Hunk had been a little sloppy, leaving his stuff all over the floor, but he was a good friend. Lance’s best friend, if he thought about it hard enough. He missed having someone with him, even if they were just a ghost of a presence.

“What’s the catch?” Keith frowned.

“No catch,” Lance said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped it open, then slid it across the table for Keith to see. He’d taken more pictures of the room Keith would be occupying that morning. It wasn’t fancy, but it was comfortable. He suspected Keith needed a little more comfort in his life.

Keith grabbed the phone and peered at it, squinting. Lance tilted his head, watching him. He wondered if Keith wore glasses usually. Trying to imagine Keith wearing glasses made his stomach flip.

He had to admit, Keith was a looker. His picture was what had drawn Lance to his ad in the first place and he somehow looked even better face to face. Lance especially adored his hair, of which the fluffy tufts stuck to the sides of his cheeks. He wanted to touch it, only resisting because it’d probably leave Keith terrified of him.

“You aren’t a serial killer?”

Lance snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. “Nope.”

Keith looked at him for a long moment, then set Lance’s phone back down. “Okay,” he said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “When can I move in?”

A little too brightly, Lance replied, “Today?”

***

“So, what do you do?” Lance asked later that night when they were having dinner. Keith had offered to cook and Lance gladly accepted. He wasn’t a terrible cook himself, but he was interested in seeing what kind of food a person like Keith would make.

It turned out to be a very average meal of chicken and rice, not better or worse than Lance’s usual food. He ate slowly, wanting to draw out the time Keith had to politely spend with him while they ate.

“I’m a student,” Keith answered, shoving rice into his mouth and chewing for a strangely long time. “It was in the ad.”

Lance leaned forward, humming. “Well, yeah. But what are you majoring in? We’re going to the same university, right?”

Keith’s ankles hit his under the table. The chair squeaked as he moved back, grimacing. From the roughly seven hours he’d spent with him so far, he was beginning to think that Keith was just not good with people in general. He wasn’t nervous so much as just uncomfortable, most notably with the small talk Lance was trying to shove down his throat.

He needed to know these things about Keith. He didn’t want a roommate that was going to ghost him. Getting as much of Keith’s personal information as possible while he still felt obligated to talk to him was important.

At least, that was the reasoning he was going to give if Keith asked.

“Art,” Keith said, after a strained moment of silence. “I’m majoring in art.”

“Oh!” Lance almost banged his head on the wall behind him. “Really? Me too. Kind of. It depends on what you consider art, I guess. I’m doing photography.”

That got Keith’s attention. He paused, chopsticks mid-air. “That’s cool.”

“It sure is,” Lance smiled. If Keith wanted, he could talk about it all day, but he suspected that Keith would rather die than be put through that. It was nice to know they had one thing in common, though. Keith went back to eating, chewing quietly on a large piece of chicken. Lance waited, then prompted, “What about you?”

“Illustration. Drawing and stuff.”

“That’s awesome!” Lance said, waving his chopsticks excitedly. Keith glared at him and Lance realized what he was doing and set them down, laughing. “Can I see?”

“No,” Keith said shortly.

“Why not?” Lance pouted. “I’ll let you see some of my photos. They’re not awful, I swear.”

“Because I said no.” Keith mirrored him, putting down his chopsticks. “If that’s all, I’m going to bed.”

He began to sit up, reaching out for his bowl, and Lance instinctively grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Keith’s pupils dilated and Lance stifled a choke, realizing what he had done.

“Uh,” Lance said dumbly. 

Scowling, Keith shook his grip off and rubbed his wrist. “I know you’re curious, but I said no. Maybe another time.”

He took his bowl into the kitchen, leaving Lance alone with his cold food. He heard the tap run for a few moments, and then the sound of Keith’s footsteps as he left to go to his room. He shut the door behind him. Lance heard it lock.

He pressed his cheek to the table. So, that hadn’t been as good of a start as he’d imagined for his new, hot roommate. Keith was almost the exact opposite of Hunk. Where Hunk had been warm and welcoming, Keith seemed cold and closed off, especially for someone whose living situation lied in Lance’s hands. 

He took a deep breath, positioning his hands against the table. He had to stay strong, though. Keith was probably one of those people who didn’t like showing their emotions to strangers. Lance could understand that, to a point; he didn’t like showing off his negativity either. 

Despite the clear rejection he’d just faced, Lance went to bed relatively optimistic, staring at the wall, knowing that Keith was on the other side.

***

(13:43) Lance: Can you buy me some oranges on your way home?  
(15:50) Keith: Why?  
(16:12) Lance: I want oranges??  
(16:23) Keith: You’re going to pay me back, right?  
(16:48) Lance: Uhhhh. Yes.  
(17:11) Keith: That didn’t sound very certain…

***

“What are you doing?” Keith covered the side of his arm with his face, hiding himself from Lance’s camera.

“Taking pictures, duh,” Lance answered, clicking down and capturing the sight of Keith hopelessly trying to ignore him for the rest of eternity. He shielded the top of the camera’s screen from the light and narrowed his eyes, looking down at the photo he’d just taken. Unfortunately, Keith covering himself didn’t make for a very good photo.

“Does it have to be of me?” 

Lance took another photo and Keith soon understood that Lance wasn’t going to move. He did instead, turning so his back was to Lance. 

“I’m actually taking pictures of the couch,” Lance said, making up his excuse on the spot. He took a picture of Keith’s back. 

With the sun filtering in through the blinds, it created the illusion that Keith was glowing. His hair fell over his back, covering the back of his neck; Lance could see the faint outline of Keith’s spine underneath his shirt. It wasn’t the best picture he’d ever taken, but he knew he was going to keep this one on his camera for a long, long time.

“I’m not moving,” Keith said. He went back to sketching. Lance saw his arm movement with every light stroke he made on his notebook. Zooming in through his camera, he tried to spot what he was drawing, but he couldn’t get in close enough without Keith getting annoyed and walking away.

After taking another dozen shots of Keith from various angles, a minimum of three feet away, he gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks!”

“Why are you thanking me?” Keith looked over at him curiously, using his arm to shield his notebook from Lance’s view.

Lance snapped a photo right at the moment when Keith turned his head. “Because of that.”

Keith slammed his notebook shut and tucked his pencil behind his ear, not saying goodbye as he left for his room.

***

“Whoa,” Pidge said, lifting Lance’s camera closer. “This one is really nice. Who is it?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lance reached out and grabbed his camera from her, anxiously checking to see that she hadn’t dislodged anything. “Be careful with that.”

“Jesus. I barely even touched it.” She leaned back in her chair, kicking her feet up on the stool in between them. “And don’t avoid the question.”

“I’m not avoiding it. He’s my new roommate. Keith. Illustration student. Very pretty and very scary.”

“Scary?” 

“He has a temper on him,” Lance said fondly, looking down at the photo he’d taken.

Keith wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He looked confused, eyebrows raised, his lips parted slightly. The plants he’d bought were sprouting behind him, the blue of the sky from outside the window bringing out the vivid red of his jacket. 

“Sounds like your type,” Pidge smirked. “You didn’t tell me about any new roommate. That’s a pretty big thing to keep from one of your closest friends.”

He let the camera power down automatically. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re still getting used to things.”

“Does he leave the toilet seat up?”

Snickering, Lance replied, “no. But he does go to sleep with his slippers on. I caught him napping on the couch with them, even though he was using my blanket and pillow.”

“Scandalous,” she quipped, chugging her smoothie and staring at him oddly. He stuck his tongue out at her, face heating up; he knew what she was thinking even though she didn’t say it out loud. “It sounds like it’s going well.”

Secretly, he liked the idea of Keith using his things while he wasn’t home. He was slowly but surely fitting himself into Lance’s lifestyle whether he knew it or not.

“Yeah,” he said, voice thick with warmth. “It is.”

***

(22:48) Keith: I’m going to be home late. Can you leave the door open? I left my keys in my room by accident.  
(22:59) Lance: Sure thing.

He looked at the dim screen of his phone for a long, long time. It’d been two months, yet this was the first time he’d seen Keith say it.

Home.

He didn’t know where Keith had come from, except that he had been living with his best friend previously, and they were both evicted for being unable to pay rent. 

In fact, his list of things that he knew about Keith was significantly smaller than he’d hoped for on their first day together. He knew Keith’s full name, his age, and his class schedule. He knew Keith was mixed and that he could speak four languages. He knew Keith had a cat named Butterscotch that he’d given to his previous roommate because of Lance’s building’s no-pet rule. He felt a little guilty about that last one.

All in all, it was practically nothing compared to how much he’d divulged to Keith. Which was a lot. Almost every day, he thought of something knew to tell Keith about himself, trying to break the last layer of ice between them.

It never worked. But seeing Keith type home made him think that just maybe, he was getting through to him.

He ended up staying up to the wee hours of the morning waiting for Keith to make sure that he got home safely. 

When two o’clock in the morning rolled around, he was glancing down at his phone every three seconds. It was a Sunday. Who was out until two on a Sunday? He bit his lip harshly, chewing on the frail skin in between his teeth.

What if Keith was injured? What if he had been kidnapped? What if someone had tried to steal his art and Keith had foolishly chased after them and gotten lost? He realized with a sick sensation that he didn’t even know what city Keith was from. There were a lot of winding roads in their area that Keith could’ve gotten lost in. 

Groaning, he flopped down on the couch, curling up in what was steadily becoming Keith’s usual place to sit and draw. 

Keith’s plants hung overhead of him, concealing part of his view of the ceiling. They were getting bigger and bigger. He had to ask Keith to trim them soon, but he also adored watching Keith tend to him. It was the same way that he drew, with his focus entirely on his task, his slim hands tending to the leaves.

He barely stopped himself from falling off the couch when he heard the door open. The first thought he had in his sleepy mind was that he was about to be robbed, but then Keith came into view, his expression turning from blank to surprised when he saw Lance.

“You’re still up?” Keith pulled down his scarf, tying it around a hanger.

His hair was tousled from the wind outside and his cheeks were pink from the cold. He unbuttoned his black jacket, revealing a tight red shirt underneath.

A really, really tight red shirt.

Lance covered his mouth to stop the ugly noise that was about to come out. Keith looked at him oddly, and Lance realized he was waiting for a reply.

“I thought you might’ve gotten mugged,” he said. 

Keith took off his shoes and slid into his sandals. “That’s comforting to hear. Go to sleep.”

Lance stood up, going to stand beside him. He ruffled Keith’s hair, wanting to have a hand in how utterly perfect it looked. “Don’t be snarky, I was worried about you. Night, Keith.”

Keith didn’t move until Lance was by his door. 

“Good night,” he said uncertainly back, and Lance flashed him a smile before entering his room.

***

(12:48) Lance: Do you have toilet paper?  
(12:51) Keith: What kind of a question is that?  
(12:51) Lance: Why did you take so long to reply!!  
(12:52) Keith: There’s toilet paper in the closet.  
(12:53) Lance: You don’t understand!!!!!!!!! I do not have toilet paper and I’m on the toilet!!!  
(12:54) Keith: I understand perfectly fine, thank you.  
(12:54) Keith: ;)  
(12:55) Lance: Keith please don’t tease me like that.  
(12:55) Lance: Keith?  
(12:56) Lance: Keith!!!!!

***

“It’s a new recipe,” Keith huffed as he set a plate down in front of Lance. “Don’t laugh if it’s bad.”

Lance sniffed the plate incredulously. It looked innocent enough. A mixture of vegetables and assorted meats that Keith had insisted on buying the last time Lance went out grocery shopping. 

But the smell…

“So you know it’s going to be bad?” Lance inquired hopefully, praying that Keith would acknowledge it so his imminent bad reaction wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Stop taking my words out of context.” He set a fork down beside Lance’s plate and then sat down across from him. 

Lance looked down. Very carefully, as if it would burn, he picked up the fork and stabbed a piece of beef. The consistency was very beef-like, but Lance still didn’t trust it.

“Are you going to stare at it or actually eat it?” Keith elbowed him. “Go on already.”

Lance glanced at him. He was startled at how intensely Keith was staring at him, waiting for him to taste his food.

Deciding to stop joking around, he sighed dramatically. “Here goes nothing.” He took a bite of the mysterious food, face scrunched up.

And then: “Holy shit. This is incredible?”

Keith laughed bashfully, finally taking a bite from his own plate. “You don’t need to sound so surprised.”

Lance spooned a massive amount of it into his mouth, eyes comically wide. The taste was indescribable, but it was genuinely one of the best things he’d ever eaten. It gave him the same feeling that his mother and Hunk’s cooking both had. It burst with passion and love, as if Keith had tended to it cautiously while it was being made, in the same way that he treated his regular hobbies.

“Well, I am,” Lance said honestly. “It smelled kinda funky, but the taste is great. Better than great.”

“I’m glad you were able to get over your food prejudice to be able to taste it,” Keith said sarcastically. “Bon appétit.”

“Wait.” Lance paused. “You can speak french too? Damn it, Keith, how many languages do you know?”

Keith rolled his eyes, and they joked as they ate. Keith’s eyes twinkled and Lance puffed his chest out with pride.

***

(11:22) Keith: Do you want me to pick you up more oranges?  
(12:38) Lance: :D  
(13:10) Keith: I’m taking that as a yes.  
(13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!  
(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.

***

(23:37) Keith: I’m going to be home late. You don’t need to stay up this time.  
(23:56) Lance: You don’t control me!!  
(23:57) Lance: Stay safe.

Lance, frankly, didn’t care what Keith said. They both knew that he was going to stay up whether Keith liked it or not.

He sat on the couch and watched TV, absently flipping through the channels every few minutes. Nothing good was on during the early hours of the morning. It was all F-rated comedies and reruns of stuff Lance had watched years ago. He settled for watching cartoons, letting it run in the background as he anxiously looked up and down from his phone.

This was the fourth time Keith had gone out like this. It was always on a Sunday, which was what tipped Lance off that he was going somewhere specific that was only available during Sunday nights.

He groaned, sliding his hands down his face. He couldn’t help it; he was worried. Keith had become an irreplaceable part of his life, and thinking about Keith wandering around, alone, when it was pitch black outside, made his heart snag with unease.

Then again, maybe Keith wasn’t alone. That would explain a lot. It didn’t make him feel any better, though.

The door clicked open a few hours later and Lance jolted awake, rubbing his eyes hastily to try and seem like he was marginally awake. Keith stepped in through the walkway, doing his usual routine of taking off his jacket and shoes and giving Lance an unimpressed look.

“I’m not doing anything dangerous, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know, I just—” Lance struggled to find the proper words for what he felt about Keith. There were none that fit. Keith did always say that his vocabulary was unusually small. 

“You’re concerned about me, I get it.” Keith put his hand on his shoulder. “But stop torturing yourself on a school night over nothing.”

Lance’s shoulders dragged down, relaxing at Keith’s touch. “I always skip my first class anyways.”

Keith laughed, drawing his hand back. Lance mourned his touch; always light, but constantly there and on his mind. Keith was, surprisingly, a rather touchy person. “You shouldn’t admit that so proudly.”

He grabbed his phone off of the table in the hallway and went to his room. Lance tried not to look as gloomy as he was inside. 

“Lance?” Keith called out, stopping at his doorway.

“Yeah?” Lance perked up.

“Thank you for caring,” he said, giving him a small smile, and Lance smiled back, motivation reinvigorated. 

***

“I’m going to be going away for the weekend,” Keith said one day when they were out grocery shopping.

There were a few things that were becoming routine for them. One of those things was their biweekly grocery trips. Usually, Lance would grab anything urgent on the way home from his last class, but every other Saturday, they went out and did it together.

Keith had a not-so-secret sweet tooth. He plucked a package of chocolate cookies off of one of the shelves as they walked by and dropped it into their cart.

“Where to?” Lance asked, turning his head to hide the natural frown that spread over his lips at the thought of Keith leaving. The more he thought about it, the more petty he felt. It’d been almost half a year since they’d started living together. The fact that Keith hadn’t gone on vacation earlier should’ve been more worrying than whatever Lance’s stupid brain was imagining. 

“Home,” Keith replied. He hurried to correct himself when Lance jerked suddenly, “I mean where my parents live and stuff.”

“Oh.” Lance spent a very long time reading the nutritional label on a box of cereal. Keith waited behind him, leaning against their cart. “Just for the weekend?”

“Yeah.”

Getting rid of his frown, he turned back around and placed the cereal in his cart. He didn’t even know what brand it was. “That’s cool. Have fun.”

“I’m not leaving yet, silly.” Keith reached over his shoulder to snag a bag of salt and vinegar chips; a new stable in their household. 

Lance laughed. It sounded dry to his own ears.

***

Everything was fine.

Lance repeated the phrase over and over in his head. Everything was fine. Everything was fine.

Pidge had said that if you repeated a phrase long enough, your mind would begin to believe it was true. So why wasn’t it working?

He lowered his camera, looking at the space on the couch that Keith usually occupied. He’d been left very specific instructions on how to care for the plants that sat close to it; their leaves were beginning to hang over onto the cushions, yet Keith never brought up the idea of cutting them. 

He could snap off the edges of the leaves to get back at Keith for what he’d done to Lance. Except Keith hadn’t done anything to Lance except leave him for two days to visit his parents, a trip that was long overdue.

He peered down at his camera’s screen. His final project for one of his classes was to take a picture of something ‘deep with emotion’. Keith had once stated that Lance’s emotional depth was as wide and deep as a puddle. It was obviously untrue, but it had been his first thought when he’d received the assignment, and now Keith was the only thing he could think of whenever he tried to take a photo of anything.

Even if he was able to escape his thoughts, the rest of the living room brought them back quickly. Keith had left his existence everywhere, from the mints that lay on the coffee table to the obnoxiously bright red pillow he’d bought for himself that was propped up on the couch. 

Miserably, he went about his day as best as he could, taking uninspired pictures around their neighborhood. They were all empty and wrong. He might as well just hand in a photo from a previous assignment and make up some bullshit excuse that his photography was his passion and that the photo was special to him because the class meant a lot to him.

He was steadily drowning himself in chocolate ice cream when he heard the hum of a bird. He had unique ringtones for all of his friends. Keith’s was a bird singing, since he was always singing to himself quietly when he drew.

(21:42) Keith sent you one attachment. 

Blinking, Lance scrolled up to see if Keith had sent any other messages, but the last one had been from last night about Lance making sure to lock the windows. He pressed on the attachment to download it.

When it appeared, he choked on his ice cream, bewildered.

It was the most beautiful drawing Lance had ever seen. He instantly knew it had to be Keith’s work—even if Keith hadn’t been the one to send it, he would’ve known. The strokes were loose, but the elements of the drawing were put together concisely. 

And it was of him.

He dropped his phone and held his reddened face in his hands for what felt like an hour, his ice cream melting, forgotten on his lap.

***

“Hey,” Keith said. Lance jumped, scrambling so that he wouldn’t drop his camera.

“You didn’t tell me you were on your way back,” Lance said. He smiled, taking Keith’s suitcase from him without having been asked. Keith let him, throwing his jacket into the closet.

“I left my charger here. My phone died this morning. My train was delayed by an hour, too.” He ran his hands through his hair, looking around. “I honestly can’t believe that you didn’t burn the place down while I was gone.”

“Excuse you, I lived alone for three months before you moved in,” Lance said. He wanted to make a better retort, but he was too happy about Keith being back home again.

Keith ignored his suitcase and instead took his backpack to the couch. He laid down on his back, dropping his backpack by his feet.

“Tired?” Lance grabbed their blanket out of the closet and threw it to him.

“Thanks,” Keith said gratefully, laying it over top of himself. “I’m going to nap.”

“I think you sleep more out here than you do in your actual room.”

Lance took a seat on the chair beside the couch, shifting so that he could see Keith out of the corner of his eye.

“Better air conditioning in here,” Keith yawned. “Don’t wake me up.” 

***

“By the way, that picture was, uh, really flattering. When did you draw it?” Lance asked, placing a bowl of pasta on the table in front of the couch. Keith was still curled up there, with the blanket tucked around him on all edges. Lance sat down across from him, on the floor.

“What picture?” Keith took the bowl and began eating. Lance stilled. 

“The drawing that you sent me on Saturday?” he said. It came out as more of an uncertain question than a statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Lance opened, then closed his mouth. The tips of his ears began to go red, but he fought back the blush with all of his willpower. 

“Uh, nevermind,” he said hastily, shoving an enormous amount of pasta into his mouth and desperately wanting to dig himself into a hole.

Keith was already opening his phone. Lance saw every click—unlocking it, then tapping on their messages, and then the pause when he came to a realization.

“I—” Keith started. His adam’s apple bobbed with hesitation. Lance forked his pasta faster out of anxiety. “I’ll be right back. I need to make a call.”

He got up, leaving his pasta behind, and went to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He didn’t come back.

***

(14:45) Unknown: Is this Lance?  
(15:01) Lance: Who is this?  
(15:12) Unknown: My name is Shiro. I’m Keith’s best friend.  
(15:15) Lance: …???  
(15:19) Unknown: I was the one who sent you the drawing he made of you.

Lance was mid-bite when he received this so-called Shiro’s text. He put down his sandwich, disgruntled, and typed back.

(15:23) Lance: Is this a prank?  
(15:25) Unknown: How would I know your name if it was a prank?

He grit his teeth together. Damn it, this guy was too smart.

(15:26) Lance: What do you want?  
(15:27) Unknown: I don’t want anything. Just to let you know that Keith wasn’t the one who sent that drawing.  
(15:27) Lance: Yeah. I know.  
(15:28) Unknown: Do you like him?

His hunger disappeared at an alarming rate. He took his phone in both of his hands and answered furiously, hoping that his irritation would translate into his words.

(15:28) Lance: What kind of a question is that??? Of course I like him. I wouldn’t live with someone I hated.  
(15:29) Unknown: Do you want to date him?

He ended up throwing the rest of his sandwich in the garbage.

***

Notwithstanding how awkward things were between them, Keith wordlessly got into his car and they drove to the supermarket together. Lance was in the middle of deciding between two bags of peaches when Keith cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I’m sorry about Shiro.”

“What?”

Lance looked over his shoulder. Keith was fixated on the floor, one foot kicking back and forth.

“He’s trying to get himself involved in something that isn’t his business. I know he texted you a few days ago. Just ignore him, if he does it again.”

Lance frowned, recalling the conversation. If it could even be called one. It ended with Lance repeatedly closing out of the messages and ignoring him. 

“It’s fine,” Lance said, looking back at his peaches. He put them both back and continued to wheel their cart down the aisle. “I don’t regret what I said, though.”

Keith caught up with him, walking by his side. “What is that?”

“The drawing was incredible.” Lance stopped, steeling his overwhelming emotions. He’d been thinking about it non-stop for days. “I know you didn’t want me to see it. I know it’s personal for you. But I’m glad I did.”

They stared at each other for a minute, mutely, until an elderly couple bumped into Lance’s side. 

“I’m going to go grab milk for us,” Keith mumbled, stalking off into the endless rows of food. 

***

“So, were you with Shiro that entire weekend, or…?”

“You aren’t subtle,” Keith said, not looking up from his notebook. “He lives close to my parents. And he has my cat.”

Putting two and two together, Lance straightened up. “Oh.” So not only was Shiro Keith’s apparent best friend, he was also his fabled former roommate. 

In essence, Lance was Shiro’s replacement. He went right back to sulking.

“Are you upset?”

Lance crossed his arms. “No. Why would I be upset? I’m not upset.”

Keith snorted, setting his notebook face-down beside him. “Still not subtle.”

“I’m not upset, I just—” Lance rubbed his cheek with his palm. “I don’t get it. We’ve been roommates for, what, seven months? Why is it such a big deal that he showed me that drawing?”

“You’re making it a bigger deal than it actually is. You need to stop worrying. It’s his issue. He was the one who took my phone while I was in the shower.”

Lance had to put a hand on his chest so that he wouldn’t fall over. Why did Keith shower at Shiro’s house? Did they do something that warranted Keith showering?

“Lance, I can literally see the worry on your face. Stop it.”

Lance hid his mopey frown behind his arms.

Sighing, Keith looked at him for another moment, then picked up his notebook and held it out. “Do you want to see?”

Lance took it before he said anything back, not daring to open it. Keith often left it lying around, but Lance had never touched it before. The cover was rough and the book itself lightweight. The most astounding thing, though, was that it carried Keith’s art, and he was holding it.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to show me. Out of obligation. Or whatever.”

Keith shoved the book closer towards him. He hung off the edge of the couch; their legs brushed. “I’m sure.”

Swallowing, Lance pulled back the cover, opening the notebook.

Most of the drawings were of things around their household or neighborhood. There was half a dozen pages just filled with sketches of Keith’s plants. No wonder he spent so much time sitting by them on the couch. A few of them were of random people doing random things, which Lance assumed he drew while he was on the bus. He ghosted his fingers over the pictures, struck by how good Keith was.

He was breathtaken. He wanted to tell Keith that, but he couldn’t even find the air inside his lungs for it when he flipped to the next page.

It was entirely of Lance: laughing, smiling, frowning. The next page was like that, too, and the next.

He looked up at Keith. Keith caught his gaze and then looked away, and Christ, was he actually blushing?

“These are amazing,” was all he could get out. “You’re amazing.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Keith said, taking back his notebook and promptly shutting it. 

“I’m serious, Keith,” Lance said. “How are you not going to a better university? You could be world-famous. I mean, I knew that before, but that was like, forty pages of it.”

“Money,” Keith answered instantly. “And it isn’t that much. I’ve had this one for a while. It’s filled up over time.”

Lance moved from his chair to beside Keith on the couch. Breathing in deeply, he took Keith’s hands. His palms were sweaty and disgusting, but he clumsily entwined their fingers, his thumb brushing Keith’s knuckles.

“You don’t need to downplay it,” Lance insisted, looking over Keith’s pink face. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest from seeing him, feeling his hands. He thought he might die from how much he wanted to kiss him. “You’re not usually _that_ humble,” he laughed, a bit awkwardly.

Keith looked down at their joined hands. “I probably should’ve told you I was drawing you.”

Lance fought back a massive grin. “Like I should’ve told you about the dozens of photos I took of you?”

Making a noise that he wouldn’t be proud of, Keith’s head snapped towards him. “What?”

“Nothing, I just…” Lance let go of one of Keith’s hands and reached for his camera. It was too far away for him to grab, but Keith moved closer, trying to stop him. “I like taking pictures of you.”

“Delete them,” Keith glared at him, but it was weak. Lance had seen Keith’s real glares many, many times; this wasn’t one of them. 

“If you answer my question. Why do you like drawing me, huh?” Lance asked. Now he was just teasing him. The happiness pooling inside him was overflowing, but he didn’t try and stop it.

“Because I,” Keith pursed his lips, sitting back down. “You look good.”

“I look good?” Lance kept laughing.

“Because you’re attractive,” Keith’s glare intensified. That was a real one. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Lance used his free hand to cover Keith’s cheek. It was even softer than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it countless times. Keith held his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Cus it’s the same reason I like taking pictures of you.”

In an instant, Keith was laughing, and Lance pushed him down and kissed him.

***

“Hey, what did you submit for that assignment?” Keith said one day.

Lance didn’t look up from his camera lens. He was trying to take the perfect shot of Keith’s plants before they trimmed them, as per Keith’s request. At least he was finally getting some sense. It was long overdue. 

“What assignment?” he questioned.

“A few months ago, you were stressed over some big assignment. What did you submit for it?”

Deciding to try another angle, Lance lowered his camera. “Oh, that. I can show you, if you want.”

Keith jumped off his stool where he was cleaning out their closet and walked over.

“Why are you so curious?” Lance began to scroll through the pictures on his camera.

Shrugging, Keith leaned against him. “It seemed like it was important to you. Do I need another reason?”

Lance shielded the camera’s screen from Keith for a second as he spoke. “It is,” he said, and then showed him.

He’d kept all of his pictures of Keith on his camera, despite not having any practical use for any of them anymore. The one he’d submitted was his favourite, though; the first one he’d ever taken with Keith looking at the camera.

“You submitted this to your professor?”

“Yes?”

Keith took his camera from him and set it gently down on the table. “I’m going to kill you,” he laughed, and they began a game of tag around their cozy apartment.

***

(20:32) Keith: I’ll be home late tonight.  
(20:38) Lance: I’m out with Pidge anyways. Tell Shiro I say hi!!  
(20:40) Keith: Okay.  
(20:41) Keith: <3  
(20:41) Lance: <33  
(20:42) Keith: <333  
(20:42) Lance: <3333  
(20:43) Keith: This will never end if we keep going.  
(20:44) Lance: Yup.  
(20:43) Lance: <3  
(20:44) Keith: Dork.  
(20:45) Lance: Brat!!  
(20:48) Keith: Train is here. Don’t stay up for me, I love you.  
(20:49) Lance: You know I always do.  
(20:50) Keith: I know.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! :D this is just a little fic i've had in my head for a while and i decided to write it between crossroads chapters. please let me know in the comments if you liked it!!
> 
> i love the idea of photographer!lance and illustrator!keith. 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


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